


Skyrim

by Nightmare_Shadows



Series: The Necromancer Dragonborn [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angry Kylo Ren, Crossover, Dragons, Hadvar is an idiot, Hermaeus Mora is Snoke, How Do I Tag, Hux is Not Nice, Hux is an Imperial Soldier, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylo is a Necromancer, Kylo is the Dohvakiin, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sassy Hux
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-30 19:38:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8546539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightmare_Shadows/pseuds/Nightmare_Shadows
Summary: A super random crossover between Star Wars and Skyrim in which Kylo Ren is the Dragonborn and Hux is a cranky soldier in the Imperial Army. Will basically be following the main quest-line of Skyrim with maybe a few side-quests sprinkled in as needed.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I hate the series title and the actual fic title. Suggestions are welcomed.

The weather was perfect for traveling, Kylo decided, pinching off another bite of Eidar cheese from the wedge next to his head as he gazed up at the sky that was dotted with big, puffy clouds. When he'd left Bruma that morning, the cloud cover had been thick and gray, hinting at becoming a fearsome storm. Luckily it hadn't, or else he likely would have had to search for shelter and wait it out or turn back. The Pale Pass was not someplace anybody wanted to find themselves in a storm.

Sitting upright, Kylo could look down on the hill he'd spent the better part of the morning hiking up, along with three of the bandits that had jumped him before he decided to take his mid-day meal. A smile contorted his features as he remembered the fight. The first bandit, a rather imposing Orc had fallen so easily to his conjured blade. After his soul found its way to an empty soul gem in Kylo's pack, he resurrected the poor bastard to kill his friends, although the third of the bandits was a Dunmer as well as a fellow mage, so Kylo had to give his thrall a bit of help in the form of an ice spike spell. All-in-all it was a nice break from walking. But time wasn't waiting for him.

Kylo folded the paper back around the cheese and stuck it back in his pack along with the apple he wound up not eating. He needed to keep moving if he wanted to reach Skyrim by sundown. Kylo wasn't afraid of any men, mer, or beasts attacking him; he just wanted to sleep in a real bed and not on his bedroll under the too-short tent he'd purchased from one of the Khajiit caravans at the owner's insistence that it'd fit his tall frame. Really, he should have known better, especially given his fa-.

Kylo shook his head as he shouldered his pack and began walking. Ben was dead; he didn't need to waste his time thinking about a dead boy's family. He walked quickly now, fleeing both blood ties and memories.  
Kylo Ren is a man formed from the spilled blood of children and temple ashes. Ben Organa-Solo was a weak boy who had a difficult time casting spells and an even harder time picking up even a wooden, toy sword. Ben Organa-Solo was too socially awkward to make and keep more than a handful of friends, and even then, they didn't last long. Kylo Ren killed without mercy.

Despite that very important fact, Kylo decidedly to not get involved with the small battle he encountered upon crossing the border into Skyrim some hours later. He ran off the side of the road and into the thick forest, trying to remain unseen. Out of the many abilities Kylo had, foresight was not one of them or else he would have known about the Imperial soldier hiding behind am over-sized pine tree who bashed him in the temple with the pommel of his sword as Kylo passed. Kylo barely had time to regret his choices before the world went dark.


	2. Unbound

The shaking of the carriage combined with conversation was only part of what brought Kylo back to the land of the living. His main concern was the ropes that tightly bound his wrists in front of him, palms pressed together so he could only bend his forearms and wiggle his fingers. The dark-haired mage could also feel the cold wind in places he was sure we're covered by his robes. Cracking one eye open, he could see one of the spots; a hole, just as he figured. From just that one peek he could also see three other sets of legs in the cart with him, excluding the driver. Lovely.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake," Kylo fully opened his eyes at the sound of somebody addressing him, guess he was squirming around too much, "You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked into that Imperial Ambush, same as us, and that horse thief over there." The man speaking seemed to be a Nord, Kylo guessed, from the blond hair, blue eyes, muscular build, and the fact that they were in Skyrim.

The horse-thief he'd mentioned bore more browns, aided by a copious amount of dirt, but was very much still a Nord. "Damn you Stormcloaks," he cursed, "Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." The man paused then, turning as much as he could to properly address Kylo, "You there...You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

"All's fair in love and war," Kylo grumbled, quoting the Altmer proverb. It was absolute garbage, but that was their current situation. Looking around, there wasn't much hope for jumping out of the cart and making a run for it; there were at least half a dozen mounted Imperial soldiers following their cart and a few more between their cart and another one ahead of them.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief," the blond Nord spat, understandably displeased with the blame the horse-thief was dishing out.

The soldier driving the cart finally spoke up, "Shut up back there!"

Kylo rolled his eyes, "If you didn't want us to talk, maybe you should have gagged all of us," he grumbled, noticing the man sitting next to him actually had been gagged for whatever reason.

The thief ignored the soldier's command, choosing to jerk his chin at the gagged man, "And what's wrong with him, huh?" It was a valid question; why was that man gagged while the rest of them weren't?

"Watch your tongue!" the blond barked, "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"  
Kylo's eyes widened minutely. Talk of the rebellion in Skyrim had been a hot topic of discussion in every town in Cyrodiil. And if they were sharing a cart with the man who'd started everything, then...well...nothing was going to end well.

The horse-thief had much the same revelation Kylo had, "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you," fear spread across his face as his voice caught in his throat, "Gods, where are they taking us?"

"Probably back to the Imperial City," Kylo offered. Once they were there he'd be put on trial, either executed or incarcerated depending on the result. His soldiers would likely meet the same fate, the horse thief might be charged with grand theft equine, and Kylo... He'd probably be dumped back on Ben's mother's doorstep. And he'd be trapped there for st least another year. Great.

The blond Nord had other ideas, however. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits."  
His unfortunate choice of words sent the horse-thief into a panic, " No, this isn't happening. This isn't happening!"

Seeming to recognize his mistake, the blond asked, "Hey, what village are you from, horse-thief? And what about you, friend?"

"I couldn't tell you where in High Rock I was born, but I grew up all over Cyrodiil," Kylo answered with a shrug. Han had a small house in both Anvil and Leyawiin for his shipping business (which was really a smuggling operation), Luke had a cabin just outside of Cheydinhal, and Leia was always going between Cyrodiil and High Rock, so she'd wound up buying a house in Chorrol.

"Why do you care?" The horse-thief snapped, despair coloring his voice.

The blond Nord sighed and said calmly, "A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." His expression changed to a sort of fondness, likely for his own home.

"Rorikstead. I'm...I'm From Rorikstead," the thief answered after a moment.

Before any further conversation could be had, shouting could be heard up ahead, "General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!"A small , walled village was nestled among the trees and nearby mountains. An Imperial soldier stood atop the wall as they approached, passing through the arch underneath him.  
"Good. Let's get this over with," came the reply at the head of the column from the mouth of what was likely General Tullius himself. Kylo watched as he steered his horse around the opposite way of the tower that filled the middle of the town.

Dread coursed through Kylo. So they were going to execute them all and be done with it. Fine. Let them try. Even with his hands bound and his magic rendered unusable, he'd still put up a fight.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me!" the horse-thief cried out in a desperate prayer. Kylo couldn't help the small snort of laughter that escaped at the man's plight. The Divines were weak, the only help they would likely give this man, if any, was to keep him from wetting his trousers.  
The blond Nord twisted around in his seat as far as he could as they passed General Tullius, "Look at him, General Tullius, the Military Govorner. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this," he grumbled, settling back down onto the hard, wooden bench. 

Recognition flashed across his face when he really started looking at where they were, "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in," he let out a small chuckle to match the warm smile on his face. "Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

Kylo rolled his eyes. He couldn't say anything about how "being sweet on" anybody made people act, but towers and walls haven't given him a sense of security in years. This time, he was the one to turn in his seat, looking at the family standing on their porch as the wagons passed.

"Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?" The little boy asked his father.

The boy's father blatantly ignored the question, "You need to go inside, little cub." Either the soldiers who were here beforehand warned all the adults or he must have heard the shouting from earlier.

Understandably, the boy didn't want to leave. "Why? I wanna watch the soldiers," he argued.

"Inside the house. Now," the father said sternly.

The boy eventually relented with a sad, "Yes, papa."

A few seconds later the carts came to a stop. "Get those prisoners out of the carts. Move it!" a female officer shouted, causing all of the prisoners to rise.

"Why are we stopping?" the horse-thief asked, fear lacing his voice.

The blond Nord answered quickly. "Why do you think? End of the line. Now, let's go. Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us."

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" He shouted, mercifully following Ulfric out of the cart. A good thing; Kylo likely would have shoved him out otherwise. It was one thing to not want death to come so soon, but it was another thing entirely to beg like a child.

"Face your death with some courage, thief," the blond Nord scolded, following Kylo out of the cart. Kylo heartily agreed with that point, but the thief was already back to begging for his life.

"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" He wailed, looking between Ulfric on his right and the Imperial soldier that stood before him.

The female officer said nothing about the man's pleas, her only reaction was to look more irritated than she had before. "Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time!" she barked to her subordinates, each one with a list in front of each cart.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm," was the first name that was read off by the soldier in front of their cart.

As Ulfric dutifully made his way to the chopping block as directed, the blond Nord exclaimed, "It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric."

"Ralof of Riverwood."

And just like that, the blond Nord was sent off to join the others.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" He exclaimed, choosing to attempt to make a run for it. He didn't get past the house with the family Kylo had noticed earlier before archers filled the horse-thief with arrows and he fell over dead.

"Anybody else feel like running?" The female officer asked, looking directly at Kylo. He glanced left and right to confirm his suspicions; he was the only one left.

She clearly was not expecting him to meet her gaze, as it wilted noticeably when he did. "Do I look like a craven, fool to you?" He asked. She could do little more than flounder for woords, eventually making her way over to the soldier in charge of one of the other carts to make sure he noted his list properly.

The soldier who had been reading names for Kylo's cart finally looked up from his list, expression confused. "Wait. You there. Step forward," he ordered, Kylo complying, "Who are you?"

“Kylo Ren,” he answered. It might have not been the name his mother gave him, but it was the one he preferred and actively used. The fewer ties he had to the Organa-Solo name, the better.

“You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman,” The man holding the list looked it up and down twice before turning to the female, “Captain. What should we do? He’s not on the list.”

“I’m only half Nord,” Kylo pointed out, slightly surprised the man could tell he had Nordic blood in him; most people saw the dark hair and eyes and assumed he was a Breton, which formed the other half of his mix.

“Forget the list. He goes to the block,” the Captain said sternly, ignoring the comments about Kylo’s race.  
“By your orders, Captain,” he sighed, “Follow the Captain, prisoner.”

“I just told you my name,” Kylo huffed, following the cranky Captain, “The least you could do is use it before you cut my head off.”

Closer to the chopping block, General Tullius was talking at Ulfric, “Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But, a hero doesn’t use a power like The Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne.” Kylo raised his eyebrows. The Voice? Now that was something interesting, and would explain the gag in his mouth.

Because of the gag still in his mouth, Ulfric could only make muffled grunts in his own defense.  
“You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace.”

As soon as the word left the General’s mouth, a piercing roar filled the air.

“What was that?” asked the soldier who’d been calling off names from Kylo’s wagon.

“It’s nothing. Carry on,” the General responded, waving it off.

The Captain was quick with her, “Yes, General Tullius,” before ordering a Priestess of Arkay to start giving the traditional last rites.

“As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved-”

A Stormcloak soldier stepped up to the block, “For the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with.”  
The Priestess stuttered momentarily before huffing out a terse, “As you wish,” and stepping away.

“Come on, I haven’t got all morning,” the overly eager Stormcloak taunted as the Imperial Captain lowered him to his knees and pushed him forward, baring his neck on the block, “My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?”

His answer came in the form of the executioner giving a hefty swing of his axe and removing his head from his shoulders. The Captain used her foot to move the headless corpse off the block to make room for the next one amid cries from the onlookers.

“You Imperial Bastards!”

“Justice!”

“Death to the Stormcloaks!”

“As fearless in death, as he was in life,” Kylo heard Ralof say. A glance to the Stormcloak showed he had his head bowed in respect for his fallen comrade.

With the number of prisoners, it only made sense for the Captain to want to hurry onto the next prisoner, but that didn’t mean Kylo expected it to be him. “Next, the man in the robes!”

The roar from earlier came again, prompting the soldier to comment, “There it is again. Did you hear that?”  
“I said, next prisoner!”

“To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy.”

Slowly, Kylo walked forward, his last trick was difficult to pull of with this much stress involved and he’d been hoping for more time to use it. Invading the minds of others wasn’t a traditional magic spell, but it was one he’d paid dearly for to learn. It was a finicky spell, usable only on those with weak wills, unless he expended a tremendous amount of effort. He targeted the woman Captain, as it was her that had sent him to the block, despite not being on her list nor associated with the Stormcloaks. Despite all of his efforts, her mind was as impenetrable as a stone wall. Kylo didn’t bother praying to any of the Divines as he came to a stop in front of the block was pushed down to his knees; they wouldn’t listen. Not to him. Not to somebody who’d sold their soul to a Daedra. A growl rumbled through his throat as he was pushed further down, laying across the execution block that was still wet with the previous victim’s blood.

The same roar that filled the air earlier came again, louder this time, seeming to herald the rain of rocks and fire that began falling from the sky. “What in Oblivion is that?” General Tullius shouted.

“Sentries! What do you see?” The captain shouted.

“It’s in the clouds!” was the first answer she got before a dark shape landed on top of the main tower.

“Dragon!” somebody else shouted, their voice cut short by the beast letting out another roar that was powerful enough to knock the headsman to his feet and Kylo onto his side on top of the still-warm corpse of the Stormcloak that was killed earlier.

“Don’t just stand there! Kill that thing! Guards, get the townspeople to safety!” General Tullius began ordering, trying to keep the inevitable chaos at bay, not that it did any good.

“Hey, mage. Get up! Come on, the gods won’t give us another chance!” Ralof said, crouching in front of Kylo.

Slowly and awkwardly, Kylo got his feet back under him and followed Ralof at a run towards a tower that didn’t have a dragon atop it. A handful of Stormcloaks and Ulfric himself were already inside the tower by the time Kylo and Ralof made it inside, somebody closing the door behind them.

“Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?” Ralof asked.

Ulfric’s response was simple, “Legends don’t burn down villages.” The commotion outside changed and the flapping of large wings could be heard from above. “We need to move. Now!” he ordered and those able to move on their own began doing so, save one Stormcloak who refused to leave his companions behind.

“Up through the tower, let’s go!” Ralof said, taking the lead up the stairs. Kylo was hot on his heels; it was a better bet to stay with somebody who’s hands weren’t bound. The moment they arrived at the first landing, the dragon shoved it’s head through the stone wall, bathing the landing with a gout of fire. Kylo wished he had the use of his hands to bring up a ward spell, but his arms and the sleeves of his robes were better protection than nothing.

“See the inn on the other side?” Ralof said, pointing at the mostly-intact, wooden structure once the Dragon had flown off, “Jump through the roof and keep going! We’ll follow when we can!”

Kylo didn’t have to be told twice. He took a couple of steps back, getting a running start as he flew over the gap, landing roughly on his forearms and knees on the upper floor of the inn. The stairs were little more than a pile of rubble and splinters, so after picking himself back up, Kylo dropped down through a hole in the floor.

Standing in front of the door to the inn, a small group of survivors was huddled up. The soldier with the list from before was trying to coax the young boy that had been sent inside away from his dying father.  
“Haming, you need to get over here. Now!” his next words were cut off as the dragon landed on the other side of the dying father as the boy ran around the corner of the building just in time to avoid the gout of fire the dragon let loose.

With the boy safe for the moment, the soldier glanced behind him, spotting Kylo. “Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way.”

Kylo scowled. “I still have a name,” he said pointedly, but was drowned out by the soldier giving orders.  
“Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join their defense.”

“Gods guide you, Hadvar.”

The soldier, Hadvar gave a curt nod before drawing his sword and running across the small street and into an ally between destroyed houses. Kylo followed behind, despite that this soldier could very well be leading him to his doom…or to being captured again. At least he had a sword and could use it.

“Stay close to the wall!” Hadvar shouted seconds before the dragon landed on the wall of the house to their right. Kylo had to dive forward to avoid having his head crushed by the beast’s massive talons. Luckily, it didn’t seem to notice them as it was too busy breathing fire at something or somebody on the other side of the other house.

As the dragon took off, so did Hadvar, taking a couple more turns before the main keep was in sight, along with a group of Imperial soldiers who were ushering survivors into the keep. General Tullius himself was among them, and noticed Kylo and Hadvar as soon as they rounded the corner. “Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier, we’re leaving!”

“It’s you and me, prisoner. Stay close!” Hadvar shouted, making towards the keep. Ralof and the other Stormcloaks must have had a similar idea as a group of them were coming from the other side of the square. “Ralof! You damned traitor. Out of my way!” Hadvar shouted, brandishing his sword.

Ralof matched his stance with a war axe he must have picked up somewhere after escaping the tower. “We’re escaping, Hadvar. You’re not stopping us this time.”

At least Hadvar seemed to have some sense of self-preservation. “Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde,” he said before shouldering open a door to the keep.

“Come on, into the keep!” Ralof exclaimed, pointing to another entrance to the stone structure.

Kylo hesitated. If he followed Ralof, he was likely to be pulled into their war; something he could really care less about. He decided to take his chances by following Hadvar. “Sorry, friend. I’ve no interest in your war,” he said, ducking inside the door Hadvar had gone in through just moments before.

At a glance, it was clear that the room they were standing in was the troop barracks, judging by the beds and footlockers lining the walls mixed in with a handful of other pieces to make the cold, stone walls and floor feel more homely. 

“Looks like we’re the only ones that made it,” Hadvar said, noting the current room’s lack of other occupants. Turning around, he asked, “Was that really a dragon? The bringers of the End Times?”

“It was flying. It had scales and wings and breathed fire,” Kylo said, “By all accounts, those are all things dragons do.”

Hadvar shook his head, seeming to go back into ‘soldier-mode’. “We should keep moving,” he said, changing the subject, “Come here, let me see if I can get those bindings off.”

“You’re a soldier with a sword. I should hope you know how to use it,” Kylo snorted, holding his bound wrists out as he was told. Carefully, Hadvar sliced through the ropes, letting them drop to the floor. “There you go. Take a look around, there should be plenty of gear to choose from. I’m going to see if I can find something for these burns.”

Kylo rubbed the circulation back into his hands, nodding slightly as Hadvar spoke. “I think I’ll pass. I don’t have much use for Imperial armor and if I really want a sword, I’ll just conjure one,” he said as the soldier looked for something to help the mild burns he’d sustained on his forearms and face from getting to close to one of the dragon’s gouts of fire.

When the search proved fruitless, Hadvar sighed. “Let’s keep moving, that thing is still out there.” Kylo followed as Hadvar crossed to the opposite end of the room from where they came in and walked through the door. The hall was sparsely lit, though short. Voices could be heard beyond the door at the far end.

“We need to get moving! That dragon is tearing up the whole keep!”

“Just give me a minute… I’m…out of breath.”

“Hear that?” Hadvar whispered, pressing close to a wall so he could peer through the crack in the door, “Stormcloaks. Maybe we can reason with them.”

No sooner had he opened the door than the Stormcloaks had drawn their weapons and, upon identifying Hadvar as an Imperial, began attacking. Of course, considering that Kylo had shown up with the Imperial soldier, they assumed he was one of them. While Hadvar fended off one of the Stormcloaks, the other approached Kylo, a war hammer in her hands. She swung and he ducked, one of his hands flying out and zapping her with a few bolts of lightning. The magic attack stunned her enough for him to move in close and punch the woman square in the nose, sending her stumbling to the ground where Kylo finished her off with a blast of fire.

By then, Hadvar had defeated his opponent and relieved him of the bow and arrows he was carrying. “Let me see if I can get that door open,” he said, not minding one bit that they were now standing around in a room with two corpses, one of which he had just looted. For now, Kylo shrugged and went along with it; they did need to get out of there, after all. And it wasn’t like corpses bothered him all that much.

“There may be a way out down this way,” Hadvar said, once he’d gotten the door open. Kylo peered down the stairs. He couldn’t see much given their slight curve, but it was better than having to go back outside. And a lot of keeps were known to have secret exits in case the front was blocked for whatever reason, be it a fire or an enemy army.

“It’s worth a shot,” Kylo admitted, beginning to walk down the stairs, Hadvar right behind him.

“Look out!” Hadvar cried. As soon as the pair reached the bottom, the dragon’s roar echoed through the halls as the entire keep shook, causing the section of hallway in front of them to fall in. They both stumbled backward to avoid getting hit from any falling debris. “Damn, that dragon doesn’t give up easy,” Hadvar noted before spotting a door. Kylo followed his gaze and, since he was closer, pushed it open.  
“What are you doing? We need to get out of Helgen, NOW!” came the voice of what Kylo could only assume was another Stormcloak, he stopped behind a stone pillar and peered around.

“The Imperials have potions here. We’re going to need them.” A pair of them then. Kylo held out his hands, focusing his magicka into two ice-spike spells. The closer of the two Stormcloaks seemed to have heard as they started walking towards him, but it was too late. Kylo launched one spell at both of the soldiers and they fell to the ground dead, the spikes having caught them both in the neck.

Looking back, Kylo spotted Hadvar edging into the room, a look of discomfort on his face, likely from the ease with which Kylo just killed the two Stormcloak soldiers. Or because he was a Nord and they distrusted magic on principal. Either way, he chose to comment, “An old store room. See if you can find some potions. Might come in handy.” Basically all he did was echo what the dead soldiers were saying just moments before.

It was a fair suggestion and, after a few moments of searching, Kylo came up with three potions of minor healing and a potion of minor magicka along with a few bottles of wine, some surprisingly fresh bread and apples, and another chunk of cheese. He’d need to eat at some point and the provisions he’d had earlier had been confiscated along with the rest of his belongings when he was knocked out earlier.

“Done then?” Hadvar asked from the spot he’d taken waiting by the next door, “This way,” he continued, exiting the store room and proceeding down the hall, which ended in yet another flight of curving stairs.

About halfway down the stone steps, Hadvar paused, causing Kylo to almost run into him. “What?” he asked, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice. A dragon was still likely flying around somewhere above them, what on Nirn was the hold-up?

“The torture room,” was the response he received, “Gods, I wish we didn’t need these.”

“And I wish I hadn’t almost been executed and then almost killed by a dragon, but we can’t all have what we want, now can we?” Kylo growled, continuing to glare when Hadvar held up his hand for silence.  
“Hear that?” he asked, clearly having not heard a single word Kylo had said.

Although, now that it was mentioned, Kylo could hear the sounds of a fight coming from further down the stairs. Brushing past Hadvar, Kylo conjured a Daedric sword. Killing things with magic was fine and all, but it just didn’t have the satisfaction that came with actually stabbing somebody. In the torture room, two Imperial soldiers were fending off two Stormcloaks. Without pausing, Kylo jumped into the fray, almost getting singed by one of the Imperial’s lightning spells in the process.

The first Stormcloak had his back turned and didn’t see him coming so it was a simple matter for Kylo to drive his blade straight through the man’s back. Unfortunately for him, Hadvar and the two other Imperials had finished off the man’s comrade before Kylo could free his blade.

“You fellows happened along just in time. These boys seemed upset at how I’ve been entertaining their comrades,” Said one of the Imperials, who seemed to outrank both his friend and Hadvar at how snooty his tone was. Kylo was tempted to wipe it off his face with his sword, but held back for the time being. Hadvar would probably not take kindly to him stabbing one of his fellow soldiers and that was Kylo’s best way out for the time being.

At least he wasn’t the only one irritated. “Don’t you even know what’s going on? A dragon’s attacking Helgen!” Hadvar exclaimed, seemingly shocked that word hadn’t reached this far.

The torturer snorted, “A dragon? Please. Don’t make up nonsense.” He considered something for a moment before adding, “Although, come to think of it, I did hear some odd noises coming from over there.”

“Come with us,” Hadvar pleaded, “We need to get out of here.”

“Or not. If you want to meet your death down here, in your own torture room that’s fine too,” Kylo quipped, eager to get going, with or without anybody else.

“You have no authority over me, boy.” The torture spat at both Kylo and Hadvar.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said the keep is under attack!” Hadvar exclaimed, trying to get the man to see sense, but it was a futile effort.

The other man finally spoke up, “Forget the old man, I’ll come with you.” Well at least SOMEBODY had a sense of self-preservation.

Just as they were about to get going again, Hadvar stopped. Kylo wondered if he saw something shiny. “Wait a second. Looks like something’s in that cage,” he said, confirming Kylo’s suspicions, at least in his own mind.

“Don’t bother with that. Lost the key ages ago. Poor fellow screamed for weeks,” came the torturer’s mildly annoyed response.

Out of nowhere, Hadvar was shoving a handful of lockpicks at Kylo, “See if you can get it open with some picks. We’ll need everything we can get.”

Kylo could do little more than gape for a moment. “Are you kidding me? Just because you assholes knocked me out and captured me, you’re automatically going to assume I’m some kind of thief and therefor know exactly how to use these?” he fumed silently for a moment, seeing as Hadvar was once again, not paying any attention to what he was saying.

Inside the cage was the corpse of what was clearly a mage, judging by the enchanted robes and hood he still had on, along with a frostbite spell tome sitting next to him. Kylo cast a withering glance down at his own robes that had been torn up from the rough handling of his Imperial captors before looking back at the corpse. They seemed to be about the same size, so Kylo picked the lock, taking a handful of picks in order to do so. He actually did know how to pick a lock, he just wasn’t patient enough most of the time and the picks were so fragile. Once the gate was open he stripped the dead man of his hood and robes, along with the handful of coins that were lying next to him; he could change later, but at least he had something.

“Sure, take all my things. Please,” the torturer said with a huff, crossing his arms and looking extremely displeased with the way the situation was unfolding. When Hadvar and the Torturer’s assistant made to leave he shouted, “There’s no way out that way, you know!”

Kylo was absolutely done with this guy’s garbage. So as the other two carried on, he hung back long enough to conjure a storm Atronach and order it to kill the torturer. The resulting screams brought a smile to his face as he ran to catch up with Hadvar and their new companion.

“I’m glad to be out of that place. I hope this leads somewhere,” Hadvar remarked, almost as though he had been waiting for Kylo to catch back up with them before saying anything.

Somehow, once again Kylo wound up at the head of the group right before they encountered another group of Stormcloaks.

“Where in Oblivion are we supposed to go? Where’s the way out?” A female voice shouted from somewhere up ahead.

“Just give me a minute!” A male voice answered, just before Kylo turned the corner. They hadn’t been spotted yet, so Kylo took the opportunity to conjure a fresh Daedric sword so he wouldn’t have to worry about the spell running out in the middle of a fight. New blade in hand, he ran forward, catching the first Stormcloak unaware and jamming his blade straight into her stomach.

The man she had been talking with swung his battle axe at Kylo, but he was fast enough to side-step the large, clumsy weapon and slash the length of the man’s side. By then, Hadvar had come up on his other side and cut his jugular. As soon as the man hit the floor, an arrow whizzed passed Kylo’s head and he cringed. He hated archers. They liked to move around while shooting arrows so they didn’t get hit themselves; it was an annoyingly effective tactic on their part.

In his free hand, Kylo formed a ball of fire and launched it at the last spot the archer had been standing. The attack missed, as he assumed it would, however, the floor itself caught on fire, quickly spreading and killing the archer and another soldier armed with a simple battle axe. Kylo shrugged to himself. There must have been lamp-oil on the floor. Either way the fight was over. He looked around for the Torturer’s assistant, who was nowhere to be found. Odd, the man must have either chickened out and gone back to his master, wound up dead and in the small stream that ran through the room they were in, or decided to wait somewhere up the hall and direct others as they came.

Hadvar seemed to either not care, or have forgotten the young man,” Alright, let’s find away out of here.” He looked past where the archer Kylo had incinerated was standing, spotting an archway with light coming from it. “Looks like the way out’s up ahead. Let’s go!” he shouted and took of at a run, despite the armor he was wearing.

Kylo groaned and begrudgingly followed. “Do you even know where you’re going?!” he shouted.  
His response came in the form of Hadvar saying, “Let’s see where his goes.” And pulling a leaver that activated a small drawbridge that, in it’s upright state had been blocking the arch as a sort of gate. It wasn’t a direct answer, but at least it confirmed that, no, Hadvar had no clue where he was going whatsoever.

Once the bridge was down, Kylo followed Hadvar across, only for them both to immediately turn around as the dragon’s roar shook the cave they were now standing in, sending down loose rocks onto the bridge they’d just crossed, breaking it and filling in any possible gap.

“Damn it. No going back that way. I guess we’re lucky that didn’t come down on top of us. We’d better push on. I’m sure the others will find another way out,” Hadvar said with an unnerving amount of calm. However, Kylo had given up on trying to talk to the man, seeing as every word that came out of his mouth was ignored.

A small stream flowed out of a nearby stone wall and through the cave and Hadvar decided to follow it, Kylo trailing behind because, as Hadvar had so helpfully pointed out, there was no going back the way they came at this point; the only direction they could go was forward, so they did, eventually coming to yet another pile of collapsed rubble. “Damn, a dead end,” Hadvar cursed upon seeing it, “Guess we’d better try this way,” he added, starting down a side path that had literally been right next to him the entire time. And was lit with a single torch lying on a rock next to some poor soul’s skull. How exactly could he have missed something so obvious?

Kylo didn’t have much time to ponder that question as just a few feet down the path, a nest of frostbite spiders dwelled, not taking kindly to intruders in their dwelling. Three of them were already on the ground and quickly closing the distance to Kylo and Hadvar. A fourth spider was rapidly descending from the ceiling. Kylo blasted the two closest spiders with fireballs while Hadvar maneuvered himself between the mandibles of the third to drive his sword into its head. The fourth spider was just able to brush the ground when Kylo hit it with a fireball as well.

“What’s next, giant snakes?” Hadvar said jokingly, despite the quiver of unease in his voice.

Kylo merely shrugged, glancing around the room before walking through the next tunnel he spotted. A narrow arch of rock led over a creek that ran through the room. Kylo led the way over it and was going to continue following the creek but paused when Hadvar grabbed his arm.

“Hold up. There’s a bear up ahead. See her?” he said, pointing at what looked like a very large, very furry rock, “I’d rather not tangle with her right now. We might be able to sneak by. Just take it nice and slow, and watch where you step…”

Using his free hand, Kylo launched an ice spike at the bear, running it completely through. Needless to say, the bear wouldn’t be getting up any time soon.

Hadvar didn’t bother hiding his look of disgust, “Not the sneaking type, huh?” he muttered, shaking his head before following the natural direction of the cave. Again, Kylo followed, seeing as there wasn’t any where else to go. Around the corner, light shone in from atop a small slope.

“This looks like the way out! I was starting to wonder if we’d ever make it!” Hadvar exclaimed, running the last few steps, stopping once he was out in the sun and no longer under the mouth of the cave.

Kylo was only a few steps behind him and was sorely tempted to carry on to Winterhold, now that he was free from the confines of the cave, but Hadvar grabbed him once again, this time throwing him down against a rock. “Wait!” he hissed, peeking out as the dragon’s roar reverberated through the air.

The large, black shape appeared to be soaring northward, away from the now likely decimated town. “Looks like he’s gone for good this time. But I don’t think we should stick around to see if he comes back.”


	3. Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo finally ditches Hadvar and gets to Whiterun. Jarl Balgruuf gives him some cash money for his services and Farengar is a jerk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm already getting kudos and even one positive comment. Wow. Thank you all so much for your encouragement! I honestly wasn't expecting this fic to even get close to this much attention this early on, if ever. But if you keep reading, I'll definitely keep writing!

Once the dragon was out of sight, Hadvar released Kylo and stood back up himself. “Closest town from here is Riverwood. My Uncle’s the blacksmith there. I’m sure he’d help you out,” Hadvar said.

Kylo shrugged. His destination was still Winterhold, but it would be easier to keep on the main roads and it wouldn’t hurt to get some decent supplies, so he fell into step next to the Imperial soldier as they began trekking north. “It’s probably for the best if we split up,” Hadvar started to say before Kylo cut him off.

“You literally just said your Uncle would be able to help me out, and now you want me to go there by myself? Can you even begin to comprehend how stupid that is?” Kylo snapped, “Honestly, I can’t really stand your company seeing as you’re with the people who tried pretty damn hard to cut my head off for no reason, but even I can see that if we stick together for now, we’ll be safer.”

Hadvar gaped silently for a moment, hopefully realizing that Kylo had a point. If nothing else, he continued walking, leading Kylo back to the main road, luckily near a sign post. Helgen was at their back, Riverwood ahead of them, and Falkreath somewhere off to the left. After not nearly long enough Hadvar spoke again, “Listen, you should go to Solitude and join up with the Imperial Legion. We could really use somebody like you. And if the rebels have themselves a dragon, General Tullius is the only one who can stop them.”

“So you want me to join up with the people who tried to kill me? That totally makes sense,” Kylo grumbled angrily, “Not to mention I really have no desire to fight a dragon that even your General would have no chance at beating.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you’ve already earned your pardon. But let me get it confirmed by General Tullius. In the meantime, just try and stay clear of other Imperial soldiers and avoid any other complications, alright?”

Kylo sighed, it was like beating a dead horse. “Gladly,” he huffed. The sooner they could get to Riverwood and he could get away from this moron, the better.

The path they were on had taken on a gentle downward slope and as it abruptly turned to keep the slope gentle without going too far out of the way, Hadvar paused, pointing at a trio of stone arches on set into the mountain. “See that ruin up there? Bleak Falls Barrow. When I was a boy, that place always used to give me nightmares. Draugr creeping down the mountain to climb through my window at night, that kind of thing. I admit, I still don’t much like the look of it.”

All ruins looked creepy in general. It was why they were called ruins and not something that didn’t make a chill run down your spine. But Nordic ruins would almost always win any creepy contests because of the Draugr. Nobody really wanted to deal with undead dragon servants who would kill on sight. But Kylo couldn’t really say he felt one way or another about just looking at it from so far away. So he shrugged and kept walking.

Down at the first curve, Kylo glanced at three oddly shaped stones. They seemed to have been carved to depict a thief, a mage, and a warrior. Hadvar seemed to have spotted him looking as he explained, “These are the Guardian Stones, three of the thirteen ancient standing stones that dot Skyrim’s landscape. Each one corresponds to their respective constellations and they respond to your birth-sign. Go ahead, see for yourself.”

That was probably the first interesting thing that came out of Hadvar’s mouth the entire time Kylo had known him. Curious, Kylo stepped onto the flat stone platform the standing stones were on. Immediately on his left was the one depicting a thief. The carving was well done and also showed the series of stars that made up the constellation in the night sky as well. Turning, Kylo spotted the mage stone and took half a step towards it. As he did so the hollow in the upper half of the stone glowed blue and that glow spread to the carvings that covered the rock.  
“Mage, eh? Well, to each his own. Not for me to judge,” Hadvar commented, sounding not particularly surprised. Kylo had been using magic on their way out of Helgen, so really it didn’t really surprise anybody, especially Kylo himself seeing as he obviously knew.

An unspoken agreement had the pair resuming their trek to Riverwood in a mostly easy silence. It was only once the village gates were in sight that Hadvar spoke again, “I’m glad you decided to come with me.” After a look around he added, “Things seem quiet enough around here. Come on, there’s my Uncle!”

The blacksmith’s shop was close to the stone gate they had come through, with the forge built on a wooden porch facing them. Hadvar approached the stairs quickly and the man who was working the forge, “Uncle Alvor! Hello!” he announced, trying to not startle the man who was working a cherry-red rod of steel.

“Hadvar?” the man said, looking up from his work, startled at the sudden appearance of his nephew. “What are you doing here?” he asked, thrusting the steel rod into a quenching barrel and abandoning his work for the moment, “Are you on leave from… Shor’s bones, what happened to you, boy?” He wasn’t expecting to see Hadvar here and now, much less singed and with a dark-haired stranger.

The Imperial soldier shushed Alvor, “Uncle, please. Keep your voice down. I’m fine, but we should go inside to talk.”

“What’s going on?” Alvor pushed, “And who’s this?”

“He’s a friend,” Hadvar answered, a little quickly for Kylo’s taste, “Saved my life, in fact. Come on, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go inside.”

The blacksmith finally relented, “Okay, okay. Come inside, then. Sigrid will get you something to eat and you can tell me all about it.”

As Alvor led Hadvar and Kylo inside, Kylo couldn’t help but overhear a woman shouting, “A dragon! I saw a dragon!”

What he could only assume was her son began asking about what she saw, before scolding her for making up stories. If only he knew.

“Sigrid, we have company!” Alvor shouted as soon as he shouldered the wooden door to his house open.

Kylo could hear footsteps on the stairs coming from the basement before seeing Sigrid’s blond hair come through the opening in the floor.

“Hadvar?” She asked upon spotting her nephew walking into her home, “We’ve been so worried about you!” Upon realizing that he wasn’t alone she added, “Come, you two must be hungry, Sit down and I’ll get you something to eat.” And just like that, she placed a bottle of mead on the table between Hadvar and Kylo along with cups for them and her husband before gathering food that was ready to eat.

In the meantime, Alvor sought the answer to why Hadvar was even here. “Now then, boy. What’s the big mystery. What are you dong here, looking like you lost an argument with a cave bear?” the old blacksmith asked, gesturing at both Hadvar and Kylo’s rather haggard appearance.

Kylo, rather childishly, pointed at Hadvar, as the Imperials were the ones to blame for his appearance. Mostly. Hadvar shook his head, completely missing the gesture. “I don’t know where to start. You know I was assigned to General Tullius’s guard. We were stopped in Helgen when we were attacked…by a dragon.”

Alvor stared in dis belief. “A dragon? That’s…ridiculous,” he almost laughed before asking, “You aren’t drunk, are you boy?”

Sigrid frowned at her husband while she placed a small platter of bread, cheese, and apples on the table. “Husband, let him tell his story,” she scolded.

“Not much more to tell,” Hadvar shrugged, “This dragon flew over and just wrecked the whole place. Mass confusion. I don’t know if anyone else got out alive. I doubt I’d have made it out myself if not for my friend here. I need to get back to Solitude and let them know what’s happened.” He paused briefly, looking almost sheepish, “I thought you could help us out. Food, supplies, a place to rest for the night.”

Alvor smiled and the amount of warmth and friendliness behind it served to only set Kylo on edge. “Of course! Any friend of Hadvar’s is a friend of mine,” the blacksmith said before his expression changed into something with a hint more worry, “I’m happy to help however I can, but I need your help. We need your help. The Jarl needs to know if there’s a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless. We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever soldiers he can. If you’ll do that for me, I’ll be in your debt.”

Kylo squirmed under Alvor’s hopeful gaze. If he remembered the map right, because it was one of the things the Imperials took, Whiterun was, technically, on the way to Winterhold. And it was likely to have a carriage so he wouldn’t have to walk the rest of the way. Almost as if sensing his hesitation, Sigrid pressed a bundle into his hands. It felt like it contained some food and…were those health potions sticking out of the top? With a defeated sigh, Kylo asked, “How do I get to Whiterun from here?”

“Cross the river and head north,” Alvor answered, almost too excitedly, “You’ll see it, just passed the falls. When you get to Whiterun, just keep going up. When you get to the top of the hill, you’re at Dragonsreach, the Jarl’s palace.”

Kylo nodded, a thought occurring to him, “What can you tell me about the Jarl? I’d really rather not give anybody else the idea to remove my head if I can avoid it.” Or, at least somebody that he couldn’t kill instead and just be done with it. Because that made life so much easier.

“Jarl Balgruuf?” Alvor echoed, leaning back in his chair and taking on a thoughtful expression, “He rules Whiterun Hold. A good man, perhaps a bit over-cautious, but these are dangerous times. So far, he’s managed to stay out of the war. I’m afraid it can’t last though.” Kylo deadpanned. That…wasn’t really the sort of thing he was asking about, but whatever.

Before he could say anything else, Hadvar had to ask, “What side of the war does he favor?”  
Alvor shook his head at his nephew, “I don’t think he likes either Ulfric or Elisif much. Who can blame him? But I’ve no doubt he’ll prove loyal to the Empire in the end. He’s no traitor.”  
Despite really not caring, Kylo was now mildly curious. Out of all the talk of the civil war that had reached Cyrodiil, that was one name that hadn’t been mentioned once. “Who’s Elisif?”

“Ah, I forget you’re new to Skyrim. I should say, Jarl Elisif, although only because she was married to Jarl Torryg when he was murdered. Ulfric murdered Torryg, you know. Walked right into his palace in Solitude and murdered him. Shouted him to death, if you believe the stories. That’s what started this whole war. The Empire couldn’t just ignore that. Once the Jarl’s start killing each other, we’re back to the old days.”

“Hadvar, did you really see a dragon?! What did it look like?” a small female voice exclaimed from a chair sitting in the shadows cast by the fireplace, causing Kylo to jump. Had the kid been there the entire time?

“Hush, child. Don’t pester your cousin,” Sigrid scolded gently before heading back downstairs..

At that, Alvor stood up with a stretch, “Well, I’d better get back to work. You two make yourselves at home.” And just like that, he slipped out the door, the young girl quickly following behind him with a shouted, “Wait for me, papa!”

Now that they were alone, Hadvar turned to Kylo, “Listen, I’m going to lay up here for a while. You can make your own way to Solitude from here. I’d recommend heading to Whiterun, just down the road from here. From there, you can take a carriage to Solitude.”  
Kylo rolled his eyes. “Look, you’re clearly trying to be nice, but I have zero interest in joining your precious Legion. I’m going to go to Whiterun and tell the Jarl about the dragons, but then I’m going to Winterhold like I planned on doing in the first place,” he grumbled.

Just then, Sigrid reappeared from the basement, holding two bedrolls. “You two must be tired,” she said, offering a roll to each of them, “Go ahead and lay down by the fire if you want to get some sleep.”

A silent agreement passed between Kylo and Hadvar then. They both really were tired, fighting enemies and running from dragons was pretty exhausting. Within minutes of them lying down on the bedrolls, both of the men were sound asleep.

What felt like mere minutes had to have been a full night’s worth of sleep, Kylo assumed, judging by the difference in light creeping in under the door and the faintly glowing coals in the fireplace. He couldn’t hear anything from the family sleeping downstairs and Hadvar looked like he was dead to the world. So Kylo threw a few more logs on the fire before pulling out the robes he’d pilfered from the dead man the day before. Once the logs started to burn and warm the chilly air, he changed. It was enough of a shock that they fit, even more so that they were actually almost too big. Still, it was a welcome change and anything was better than wearing around clothes that had holes poked in them.

Throwing his bag over one shoulder and holding onto his old robes in one hand, Kylo slipped outside. No sense in waiting around for sir-talks-a-lot to wake up and keep him from making any sort of distance. Before leaving, Kylo tossed his old robes onto the forge. They weren’t going to be of any use to anybody anymore, so might as well lose the extra weight.

It wasn’t hard to find the bridge Alvor had mentioned the night before. A simple stone thing leading over the stream that blocked the town from the mountains on the other side. The road lead north as Kylo had been told and, as he walked, there was almost an alarming number of deer and elk running around. He was even able to get relatively close to several of them before he was noticed and they scampered off. At the crest of the hill, he could see Whiterun. It was hard to judge just how big the walled city was, but the palace dotting the top of the free-standing hill seemed to be just that; a palace.

Despite the path leading downhill and the absence of other travelers, it was well into sunset by the time Kylo could see the guards standing atop the walls of Whiterun. And three people fighting what he could only guess was a giant in some farmer’s field. The beast uttered a final death-cry as it fell, the three warriors sheathing their weapons and falling into step beside Kylo on the road. He honestly wouldn’t have minded much, if the red-headed woman hadn’t opened her mouth.

“Well, that’s taken care of, no thanks to you,” she said, giving Kylo a dirty look.  
He was quite taken aback. It wasn’t his fight, for one thing, and by the time he was close enough to have been able to do anything, the giant was already dead. Besides, “You didn’t look like you needed any help,” he sighed. What was it with random people talking to him in this place?

The woman scoffed, like she couldn’t believe what he was saying, “Certainly not. But a true warrior would have relished the opportunity to take on a giant. That’s why I’m here, with my shield-brother and sister.”

Don’t say anything stupid, don’t say any- “What’s a shield-brother?” Damn it.  
The woman gave him an amused look. “An outsider, eh?” she said, a smirk on her face, “Never heard of the Companions? An order of warriors. We are brothers and sisters in honor. And we show up to solve problems if the coin is good enough.”

Kylo snorted, “So you’re little more than over-glorified bandits. Sounds like a waste of time to me.”

“Well nobody asked you,” she retorted harshly, “If you think you’re better than we are, go talk to Kodlak Whitemane. See what a warrior of true mettle is like.” The redhead looked back at her companions and, with a nod, the three of them took off running. An admittedly impressive feat in the heavy armor they were all wearing.

Kylo continued his walking pace. He hadn’t bothered to stop and rest at all today and by this point it was just easier to keep going at a walk, especially since the terrain was starting to tilt uphill. Other than the brief conversation with the woman, nobody else stopped him, until he reached the city gates. “Halt, city’s closed with the dragons about. Official business only,” the guard said, holding a hand out, palm first.

News of the dragons had already gotten here? Kylo shrugged to himself. At least he wouldn’t have to fight to get anybody to believe him on that front. “Look, the people in Riverwood are requesting the Jarl’s aid because of the dragons,” he said, using his most convincing tone.

“Riverwood’s in danger, too?” the guard said in surprise, “You’d better gone on in. You’ll find the Jarl in Dragonsreach, at the top of the hill.” With a wave to the other guard, they opened the large wooden doors that formed the gates enough to let Kylo slip inside.

The first building inside the city was yet another blacksmith, only this time, and Kylo could really be mistaken about this, the smith seemed to be a woman. Not that he had anything against women blacksmiths, they just weren’t common. And she seemed to be arguing with a man way too old to be wearing Imperial Legion armor about swords. Not important. Kylo walked by them quickly and headed up the hill as he was instructed, only looking around to spot an inn he could stay at for the night. He didn’t exactly have any coin on him anymore, but he could always find a place to sell some of the potions he’d gathered. Or maybe he could trade manual labor for a room.

Past the small market where the inn was, Kylo couldn’t help but notice the large, dead-looking tree, seeing as it was kind of in the middle of the road. And as he walked around it, he could hear a man with the most annoying voice shouting drivel about Talos. Kylo snorted and rolled his eyes, as he passed. How that man had avoided the Thalmor, only the Divines themselves could say. From there, it was three flights of stairs upward to the palace; Dragonsreach. The building was absolutely crawling with guards, inside and out, but none made a move to stop Kylo until he passed the firepit in the middle of the large hall inside Dragonsreach.

And she wasn’t an ordinary guard. “What’s the meaning of this interruption?” the Dunmer woman asked, sword drawn and ready to strike if Kylo said something she didn’t like, “Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors.”

“I have news from Helgen,” Kylo said, raising his hands to show he wasn’t a threat, “About the dragon attack.”

The woman blinked at him for a moment before sheathing her sword, “Well, that explains why the guards let you in. Come on then, the Jarl will want to speak to you, personally.” She made a ‘follow me’ gesture and strode up the wooden steps to stand next to the Jarl, sitting on his throne, previously engaged in a rather heated conversation with some assistant or something.

“Well, who’s this then?” the Jarl asked, the Dunmer woman quickly informing him, “So you were at Helgen.” He remarked, “You saw this dragon with your own eyes?”

Kylo nodded, “Yeah, the dragon destroyed Helgen. Last I saw, it was heading this way.”  
“By Ysmir, Irileth was right!” Balgruuf exclaimed, giving a small, apologetic look to the Dunmer woman turning his head, he asked, “What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?!”

The Dunmer woman, Irileth, crossed her fist over her heart, “My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once. It’s in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the moutains-”

“The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation! He’ll assume we’re preparing to join Ulfric’s side and attack him. We should-”

“Enough!” Balgruuf shouted, silencing his two arguing advisers, “I’ll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people! Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once.”

“Yes, my Jarl,” she said, bowing and walking off.

The man, Proventus, bowed meekly, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll return to my duties.”  
Balgruuf let out an irritated sigh. “I think that would be best,” he agreed, dismissing the man before turning to Kylo. “Well done. You sought me out, on your own initiative. You’ve done Whiterun a service and I won’t forget it. Here, take this as a small token of my esteem,” he said, passing Kylo a small bag of coins. He couldn’t tell how many were in there, but it was at least enough to pay for a room for the night.

“There is another thing you could do for me. Suitable of your particular talents, perhaps,” Balgruuf continued, causing Kylo to give him a funny look. Just what did this guy think his ‘talents’ were? “Come, let’s go find Farengar, my court Wizard. He’s been looking into a matter related to these dragons and…rumors of dragons.” With that, the Jarl stood and lead Kylo over to a small room off to the side of the main hall.

Inside, a man wearing hooded, blue robes was walking back and forth between a work table and an enchanting table. “You’re about to step in your own Shock Rune,” Kylo pointed out, spotting the telltale, blue lines of the rune.

“What? I never cast,” the mage muttered, stopping just before his foot landed on the rune that would have created an explosive blast of lightning that would have hit all three of them, “Ah, I see. You have some knowledge of the higher Art. Please, forgive anything rudeness. I am so often interrupted by visitors, I can occasionally become quite savage.”  
“Farengar,” Jarl Balgruuf said, clearing his throat, “I think I’ve found someone who can help you with your dragon project. Go ahead and fill him in with all the details,” he ordered, before turning and walking back to his throne.

“So the Jarl thinks you can be of use to me?” Farengar said with a small amount of awe, “He must be referring to my research into the dragons. Yes, I could use someone to fetch something for me. Well, when I say fetch, I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not actually be there.”

Kylo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. How exactly did he get roped into this again? “Just tell me what you need me to do,” he grumbled.

Farengar smiled, hardly visible beneath his hood, “You are eager to begin your adventure? Excellent, the sooner begun, the sooner done, eh?” he mused before giving Kylo details, “I, ah, learned of a certain stone tablet said to be housed in Bleak Falls Barrow- a “dragonstone”, said to contain a map of dragon burial sites. Go to Bleak Falls Barrow, find this tablet, no doubt interred in the main chamber, and bring it to me. Simplicity itself.”

Kylo cocked his head. Bleak Falls Barrow was that ruin Hadvar had pointed out on their way into Riverwood. He slammed his palm into his face. Great, that meant he was probably going to have to walk all the way back to Riverwood, and it was up hill. Because who knew if the carriages could drop him off, despite them not having a pick-up spot in the small village. The stables were on his way out of town; he’d have to stop and ask on his way out tomorrow because like hell was he going to even attempt that tonight.

“Anything you can tell me about Bleak Falls Barrow? Things to keep an eye out for, anything potentially life-ending?” Kylo asked, not bothering to hid the irritation creeping into his voice. This wizard was being a jerk and Kylo was not in the mood for it.

“An old tomb, built by the Ancient Nords, perhaps dating back to the Dragon War itself. Ah, maybe you just wanted to know how to get there. It’s-”

“I already know how to get there, and if that’s what I wanted to know, I would have asked specifically,” Kylo said, cutting off the presumptuous mage, “But since you’re so keen on sending me into the unknown, how do you know the stone tablet is even there?”

Farengar shifted awkwardly and Kylo smirked slightly. Looks like he found something the jerk was hiding. “Well. Must preserve some professional secrets, mustn’t we? I have my sources, reliable sources,” the wizard insisted, with more force than really needed.

Kylo rolled his eyes with a muttered goodbye before turning around. “Off to Bleak Falls Barrow with you. The Jarl is not a patient man. Neither am I, come to think of it,” Farengar said to his back before resuming whatever he’d been working on previously. Kylo hoped he stepped in his shock rune.

The sun had slipped below the horizon by the time he left Dragonsreach, but torches and braziers scattered around the town provided enough light for him to find his way to the inn. The sign above the door showed the name of the place was “The Bannered Mare”. Kylo shouldered the door open. It was clean enough on the inside, and that’s what was important to him.

“Come on in,” came the voice of an older Nord woman from behind the counter, “Let me know if you need anything, or take a seat by the fire and I’ll send someone over.”  
“How much for a room?” Kylo asked, walking around small clusters of people involved in conversations.

“10 gold and it’s yours for the night,” the woman answered amiably.

Kylo dug in the pouch of gold the Jarl had given him earlier and pulled out 10 Septims, dropping them into the woman’s outstretched hand. “Excellent, I’ll show you to your room,” she said, pocketing the coins and stepping out from behind the counter to lead him to a flight of steps in the very back of the inn with a room at the top.

He muttered a quick thanks as he crossed the threshold, closing the door on the innkeeper’s retreating figure. Kylo hardly bothered to throw his bag onto the floor before flopping down on the straw mattress and burrowing down among the furs and falling sound asleep.


End file.
